In the face of a gathering dusk
I saw one shy bright white cloud
Peeking behind a dark, glorious and proud one
Afraid to step up

Dragged back by how beautiful the rival’s darkness
Blind to outstretched helping hand
Truthful and secure
But if it dares stand, the stars of evening would hide
And a twilight moon would clap to handsomeness

The hand turned a mist sword
Slashing the weak grip that felt strong, bold and his ego fattened
His eyes shone, and became aware fully
He cast his net to reclaim boundary
Gaining all, plus more…

First published on Facebook on 2013-11-09 at this link.